


Twin Souls

by Rhaized



Category: His Dark Materials (TV), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: Abandonment, Daemon Separation, Gen, Golden Monkey POV, Introspection, Season 2 Episode 5, complicated love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:27:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28027761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhaized/pseuds/Rhaized
Summary: The golden monkey’s thoughts and feelings as Mrs. Coulter leaves him locked in the bedroom.
Relationships: Marisa Coulter & Marisa Coulter's Daemon
Comments: 10
Kudos: 35





	Twin Souls

**Author's Note:**

> “Two souls, alas, are housed within my breast,  
> And each will wrestle for the mastery there.”  
> ― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust

As she closed the door on his paws, not even sparing him a sideways glance, the golden monkey howled. 

_Oh,_ how it _hurt,_ to look up and see the wood of the door crashing into his nose and his forehead! He'd clung to the panels immediately, pounding against them with his little golden paws. She must have thought he was already through. Her mind was preoccupied, naturally, so she accidentally locked him out. Indeed he felt her presence there just outside the door, _waiting for_ _him_ , as she must not have known where he was. 

_I'm here,_ he thought to her, his assault against the door intensifying. _Marisa, I'm in here! You've left me inside._

But as he reached out to her, his mind and body one as he caterpaullted his being against the wooden frame, she walked away. The golden monkey felt the coldness that oozed from her. It hit him like an unexpected patch of rain on a dreary January evening. She kept walking _farther_ away from him, and he felt it less, but how his body _shivered,_ how everything just stopped as he realized she was downstairs and he was upstairs, with no way to make it back to her.

She was taking to Boreal now. He didn't _feel_ it as strongly as he normally did, and he actually _heard_ her from down the stairs. He was pressed up as close to the door as he possibly could be, with his ear trained next to the crack at the bottom. 

"Where's your daemon?" he heard Boreal say, to which Marisa paused and said nothing. 

_I'm here!_ He called out to her. He _thought_ they were still connected, as he felt a general mood of annoyance that was typical with Boreal around. If _he_ felt it, then maybe she could, too. So the monkey channeled all his thoughts and energies into it now: _Come back, Marisa! You've left me! Come back!_

But, it didn't work. A few moments later the golden monkey heard the front door slam. Adrenaline coursed through him now as he hopped from the floor to the bed to the chair to the windowsill, where he could look to try and see her. 

There she was! She was standing in front of Boreal's car, twisting the keys in her left hand. She was so beautiful and intimidating in her suit outfit. The monkey had been pleased when she'd put it on, and told her how it reminded him of so many men they'd come across yet was accentuated with the sort of charming femininity that made her better than each and every one of them. 

He tapped at the window then, opening his mouth and letting out a gentle cry. His heart was pounding faster as he kept tapping, and kept reaching out to her in mind and spirit. 

Then she looked at him— _glared_ over at him as she bent to get inside of the car. It was too much, to see that _look_ on her face. It was a smug look that cut right entirely through him. It was a look as if to say, "I am finally free of you. I am _done_ with you." But, at the same time, it wasn't. It was strangled. It was wavering. And it hurt even more as the golden monkey was not able to _feel_ and _hear_ her the way he has for as long as they've lived. He didn't know _what_ she was thinking. They've separated before, of course, and he'd hated every moment, but this was different. This was unbearable. 

_What did I ever do to you?_ he begged her, feeling his eyes start to pool as she broke contact and fully entered the vehicle. _What crime have I committed in trying to love you more than you've allowed to love yourself?_

She had some difficulty with the car, he noticed. She sat there for several minutes looking and rummaging around. Oh, it was so _strange_ because he couldn't _hear_ her and couldn't help her! Was she looking for the instruction manual? She probably was, as she was sensible and diligent and just needed the smallest of boosts to get going. 

_Be safe!_ he called to her as the car bolted forward an inch before slowly making its way backwards. Marisa's head was craned behind her as she drove in reverse, likely taking every and all precaution as she maneuvered this strange car in a strange world in a strange way without her daemon, without _him_. 

It was even colder and quieter after she'd left the house, if that were possible. While the golden monkey had been able to sense her residual feelings when she was here, now he felt... _nothing._ With a start, he realized how _empty_ it felt, how the only thing he could hear was his own thoughts and worries dancing around in his head at a tempo far too fast to understand yet far too fast to reach and turn off. He’d never really _heard_ his own thoughts like this before. Marisa’s were always there, too, overwhelming them both. She had more to think about, given her work and her connections and her relations and everything in between. So her thoughts were everything, except now when they were non-existent. 

What was he to think about, without her? Who was the golden monkey without Marisa?

It took her all afternoon and into the evening to return. After the first couple hours the daemon had crawled onto the bed to take a nap, his sleep interrupted by aches from his chest and strangled visions of Marisa walking away from him over and _over_ again. When he heard the front door open, he also _felt_ her return abruptly throughout his entire being. He sensed her coming before she even reached the landing, and he sat up straight, waiting for her. 

She opened the door and light from the hallway streamed inside. He saw her silhouette first, so impressive and formidable in the lighting. She looked like a dark angel, on its descent from heaven. Her _face_ was so clearly revealed to him, twisted as she stared off into the distance without looking at him—yet staying there with him just the same. Their connection was back, and he could feel as she did once more. Although, as it happened with these separations, it was more brittle. It was less transparent.

_I need you,_ he thought to her after another painful few moments, his face set but his eyes betraying him as he gazed up at her. She looked down at him and, for once, showed some actual emotion in her eyes. She looked hesitant, unsure; sad and defeated in ways that probably related to what she had done and seen without him. She wasn't thinking anything in particular as she blinked and tensed her shoulders, but he understood it well even before she eventually thought it:

_I know._

She gave him another two seconds before shaking her head slightly and then walking away, this time leaving the door open. The golden monkey's heart felt stiff and trodden as he bowed his head and made his way after her, forever and for always as long as she'd dare to allow him.

**Author's Note:**

> I randomly woke up needing to write some introspection from the monkey’s POV during this scene, so here we are. This scene was very upsetting, of course, and I have the feeling that the monkey didn't understand what was happening, and might have feared the worst: that she didn't love him (when really I think she does). This is my take on what daemons experience during all of this, which I gleaned some from The Secret Commonwealth or otherwise adapted. This was all so complicated, but I just wanted to explore it a little more.
> 
> Also, to state the obvious: I know they're indeed one soul, but that quote from Faust has always stuck with me and made me think about the inner turmoil we all through, and indeed Marisa has a LOT of inner turmoil.


End file.
